My Best Friend… Forever.

The day I was waiting for since quite a long time finally arrived. I had been told a while back that I would be joining a very big school with lot of little kids my age to make my friends. Before this, I was tutored at home and did not have any real friends, unless you counted my dog Scoot as a friend. I was a bit nervous, wondering every now and then, if the other kids would like me.

My dad and mom weren’t going to come to drop me off on my first day. They were having the flu, so my neighbor uncle who passes by the school on his way to work, was going to drop me off. He loved me a lot, because he did not have kids of his own. He took my hand gently and I followed him into the classroom. There were many kids already there, with parents holding their hand and talking to the teachers. I became nervous again, and told my uncle to take me home. He bent down and told me, “Come on, it’s only the first day. Don’t be fickle minded.” He saw my puzzled look and got to know that I had not followed. He told, “I mean, don’t change your mind about school. You’ll have lot of friends soon.” I still looked doubtful though.

The teacher saw us both talking and came over to introduce herself. She told her name was Sheila and asked my name with a big smile on her face. Her eyes, they sparkled like that smile and I felt a little bit better. I told her my name and reluctantly let her take my hand from my uncle’s. She took me to a chair and I sat there while she spoke with my uncle. A little later, my uncle turned to me and said bye. He’d come pick me up in the evening. I waved goodbye, fighting off my tears.

I turned around to see a girl my age sitting in the chair next to me. She looked at me, and I could tell she also was feeling scared. I asked her name, introducing myself at the same time. She said her name was Divya, smiled and shook my hand. I felt better now that I had someone to talk with. We had a lot of fun together that day, playing and learning. When the school ended also, I walked with her to the gate, and then only said bye to her.

After that, we spent most of the days together. We had become fast friends. Even our parents became friends. She lived close by to my home, so we used to walk back home together too. A bond had been forged on the first day. She had become my first friend, and we were becoming best friends as well. She was happy and so was I. Days passed by fast, and with each day our friendship was growing. Five years passed, and every year, we had been in the same class, same bench. Our friendship was even making teachers’ smile.

One day, when we were in sixth grade, the first real test of our friendship arrived. My mom had been taken seriously ill and I was in a bad mood. She saw my bad mood and tried to cheer me up, with little success. She took my hand and gave it a pat. I was in such a bad mood that I took a compass lying on the desk and stuck it into her hand. She screamed in pain, and ran away. I immediately knew I had done something very horrible and tried to go after her. But she had disappeared. She was nowhere to be seen after the school got over, and her parents also had not come. I began to worry about her. The worry gave me a high temperature and I had to be admitted to the hospital. Next day morning, I woke up to find her sitting on a stool next to my bed, her hand bandaged tightly, but holding my hand. I turned away from her, so she didn’t see my tears. She leaned over, wiped my tears and said it was ok. She had told no one that I had hurt her. I took her hand and she gave me a hug. That hug itself made me stop worrying. I knew then, that I had found a true friend.

Ten years have passed since that day, but still our friendship remains strong and true. We have had little fights, and shared little sorrows. We have spread smiles and been together in joys. No one has managed to come in between our friendship. She’s someone I can be myself with, without having to change myself. She’s someone who gives me hope, when I feel lost chasing my dreams. A page in my life’s diary I can turn to, to find that even when other pages have wrinkled, that page is still fresh and not torn.

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Poetry & writing are to me, a breath of fresh air in a life that is sometimes covered by the smoke of sorrow or self doubt. They also become the sweets I share to celebrate when life offers me a reason to. But most of all, they are to me, my life. For each word I write is a piece of my heart, a thought that just had to find its way into the world.

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